The Beginning of all things
by Torie46
Summary: When Brandi Finch's mother dies she goes to live with her Uncle Harold Finch. This is a reboot of "The Lost Child" where she lives with Finch from the pilot to now. Rating will stay the same on account of violence.
1. The Beginning

**Summary: This is "The Lost Child" redone. I decided to start from the beginning of the show. The rating will stay the same.**

Brandilyn Finch sat in her house in Queens, waiting for her mother to come home. Because her mother was a cop, her hours were demanding to say the least. Brandi looked at her cell phone watch. 9:00 in the evening. "okay, Mom should be home now," Brandi said to no one in particular as her cat Mittens came into the living room, her tail up like an exclamation point and giving off a loud meow. Since Brandi's father Peter Finch had died on 9/11 Kate Finch had done everything to be home before dark. Especially since she had become a detective for the precinct in Queens. Since 9/11 Kate had gotten increasingly paranoid about leaving Brandi alone at night. Before 9/11 when her father had been alive Brandi often went to stay with her Uncle Harold who lived in Manhattan. Since her father's death all visits to him had stopped when her mother told her that Uncle Harold had died.

Brandi looked at the watch for the upteenth time when she heard a sharp rap on the door. Her mother usually entered the apartment. She never knocked. Brandi's heart jumped into her throat as the door was unlocked and opened. "The little girl has to be here somewhere. Mr. Wren said he needed to see her," a low voice said. It was so low that Brandi wouldn't have understood him if she had the dishwashee going and the dryer.

"She has to be here. Since her mother got killed an hour ago, she can't stay here alone," another man said, the words causing all the blood to siphone out of Brandi's veins. Her mom? Surely they meant someone else. Kate always took her gun with her. There wasn't much of a snowball's chance in hell of her mother getting shot. Or if she was shot, Kate would come back swinging. It had happened last year in Hell's Kitchen when Kate was going undercover to stop a ring that exploited 15-year-old girls.

Before Brandi could even move or think, the two men came into the living room, wearing suits. They looked like Hotch on the show "Criminal MindS" that her mother watched every week. 'Brandi Finch?" Low voice asked.

"Yes Sir," Brandi said.

"We need you to come with us. Our boss wants to talk to you," High=-Pitched voice said.

"I don't know you. My mother told me never to go with strangers," Brandi said, eyeing the strangers warily.

"That is very good advise, little one, but our boss wishes to see you. Now we could sedate you or you can walk out," low voice said.

"All right," Brandi agreed reluctantly.

"Leave your things here. Our boss says you can come get them later," high-picth said as Brandi pulled on her reversible blue coat. Brandi followed the two men to what looked like a Mercedes Benz with black tinted windows. Brandi entered when one of the men opened the car door for her, wondering if she was making a huge mistake. Children in Queens were taught at a young age to never get into a car they didn't know. Low voice was the driver and the car started up without a hint of car problems.

"Where are you taking me?" Brandi asked.

"Our boss says that he'll explain everything. You just come with us," High-Pitch said. This one was the kinder looking of the two. Low voice acted as if he didn't speak unneccessaryly. Brandi then noticed that they took the exit to the Brooklyn Bridge. Apparently this was where the boss wanted to meet. 10 or fifteen minutes later they stopped in front of the massive bridge where a lone man stood looking out at the slate-gray water. Low voice stopped the car and High-Pitch opened Brandi's door. With a jerky turn the lone man turned to look at Brandi as she was led to him. He had brown hair with a hint of gray and blue eyes that were magnified by glasses. It must have been a trick of the light, but it looked as if a glassy, soft look entered the man's eyes as he looked at her.

"Brandilyn Finch?" The man asked.

"Yes? Who are you? What do you want with me?" Brandi asked warily. Her mother had always told her to be careful when it came to strangers. The man's expression was warm and soft, but he was still a stranger.

"Brandi, it's me. Uncle Harold," the man said, nearly bowling Brandi over.

"W-what. My uncle Harold died 10 years ago," Brandi said, blinking behind her own glasses hard. The man gripped her shoulder gently.

"Brandi, you have to believe me. It's really me, Sweetheart. Uncle Harold. When you were little you used to love visiting me. Your favorite Disney movie was "Sleeping Beauty." Everytime you visited I had to show you that movie," Uncle Harold said, touching her face gently with the other hand. Brandi felt equal parts anger and sadness go through her.

"Let go of me! You're lying!" Brandi nearly shouted as she broke away from him. A look of shock was in his features.

"Brandi, please. You are my niece and I love you. Your mother is dead and you haven't any place to go. Please, Sweetheart," Harold said, reaching forward to touch her face again.

"Don't touch me. This conversation is over and I'm going home," Brandi turned. A sharp pain entered the back of her neck. She felt Harold take her into his arms gently.

"I'm sorry, Brandi, but I can't let you go. Just go to sleep, baby. Things will look better after you wake up," Harold said, kissing her forehead as Brandi fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

Harold Finch watched the monitor in his library. His niece had been asleep for hours. Finch had hoped he wouldn't have to sedate her to get her to come with him, but when she had turned belligerent and said she was going home, Finch didn't see as he had many choices. He couldn't allow Brandi to go home since Moretti's hired men were probably there at Kate's apartment, ransacking it. Sure, Brandi might hate him for what he had done, but his brother would never forgive him if Brandi got killed. Finch pulled up a picture. It was him and Peter, Brandi's father, with Brandi at three years old with one skinny arm around Peter's neck. The other arm was around Finch's.

Finch brought up the camera link again. Brandi moved slightly and sat up, her movements slightly dizzy. Finch stood and made his way to the room he had put her in. He unlocked the door and entered. Brandi looked up an angry look in her blue eyes that were much like his and her father's. "Where am I? What did you do?" Brandi asked in a sharp voice.

"It's going to be all right, Brandi. I brought you here to keep you safe. I could have avoided sedating you if you had cooperated. But you chose to get noisy and I had to put you to sleep. Now, I want you to behave yourself. If you act like you did at the bridge, I'll have to sedate you. I don't want to have to chloroform you again," Finch said, pushing a lock of her brown hair gently behind her ear.

"What do you want?" Brandi asked.

"Brandi, I'm the only family you've got. I want you to come live with me. Now, are you hungry?" Finch asked, changing the subject.

"A little, but I don't want to live here. I want to go home," Brandi said sadly.

Finch cupped her face gently, but firmly. "I'm sorry, but I can't let you do that, Brandi. The men who killed your mother might think they can do it to you as well. If you stay with me, baby, you'll be safe," Finch said.

"Are you really my uncle?" Brandi asked. Finch smiled.

"I really am. Of course I may have to legally adopt you if Moretti is looking for you. Also change your hair, glasses, and clothes," Finch said.

"No way. I like my hair, glasses, and clothes," Brandi said, looking down at her wrinkled top and khalki capris.

"Those are the only clothes you have. If you remember I had my employees telling you to leave everything. I can replace everything you own," Finch said gently.

"But I have some things that are sentimental. A sweatshirt that belonged to Dad. Some pictures, CD's, and books," Brandi said, blinking hard.

"Okay. I'll have my associates go to your house and pack everything up. They can defend themselves. You are just a child and I can't lose you like I did 10 years ago," Finch said.

"Okay. Thank you...Uncle Harold," Brandi said hesitantly. Finch smiled and kissed her through her hair gently.

"That's my girl. Now what are you hungry for?" Finch asked as they walked out of the room.

"I don't know. Surprise me," Brandi said, sitting down on the leather couch in Finch's living room.

"I'll do just that. Just make yourself comfortable and at home," Finch said, sitting back down at his computer and going to a Chinese food site. He put in an order on his credit card and the address. Finch smiled as the order was accepted. The sound of a hiccup and sniffle got his attention. He turned and saw Brandi wiping her eyes by lifting her glasses slightly. Finch limped to her and grabbing her chin, raised her eyes to meet his. "You okay, Sweetheart?" Finch asked.

"Uncle Harold, is my mother really gone?" Brandi asked in a shaking voice. Finch sat next to her and wrapping his arms around her, held her tightly.

"I'm afraid so, baby. But I'm here for you. How'd you like to help me with a project?" Finch asked, stroking her hair gently. She looked up at him.

"What is it?" Brandi asked.

"I can't explain right now, but I'm looking for someone else to give me a hand. When I find him, I'll tell both of you together. I've been sweeping the city. He's a hard man to find, but by tomorrow you both will know," Finch said.

"Okay. You will remember to tell me?" Brandi asked.

"Yes. Now can you smile for me?" Finch asked. Brandi smiled faintly, not knowing how far this rabbit hole was going to lead her.


	2. Finding Help

Chapter 2- Finding Help

Brandi looked up from her book "Catherine the Great by Robert Massie. The book belonged to Uncle Harold, who apparently owned a library and what amounted to a zillion books. After Brandi had gotten over her surprise about the books, Uncle Harold had smiled, kissed her forehead tenderly, and played "20 Questions" on what she liked to read. She saw then that Uncle Harold was looking at her with a smile and a warm look in his bespectacled blue eyes, that were like hers. "Do you like the book, Sweetheart?" Uncle Harold asked. Uncle Harold called her baby, princess, and sweetheart. While the names were kind of embarrassing, Brandi didn't know how to tell him to can it with the names.

"Yeah. My mom once told me that you were rich, but I didn't think you were this rich," Brandi said, indicating the shelves of books.

"Well, now you know. When you were born me and your father used my cleaning service to clean his and your mother's apartment, since neither of us could clean to save our lives," Uncle Harold said, sitting next to her on the couch and wrapping his arms around her. Brandi buried her face in his broad chest as he kissed the top of her head. The more she was around Uncle Harold, the more she remembered. The first memory had been last night as he was tucking her in and he kissed her.

"Uncle Harold, have you found the man you want to help you and me with your project?" Brandi asked as Uncle Harold twined his fingers in her hair gently.

"I've already found him once by accident, but, like me and you he's off the grid. He could be anywhere," Uncle Harold said.

"Uncle Harold, you hack into surveillance cameras in the city. Finding one man can't be that difficult, can it?" Brandi asked. Uncle Harold chuckled dryly as he kissed her forehead.

"I do love you, Sweetheart, and I think you're right. C'mon, Brandi," Uncle Harold said, standing up. He pulled Brandi up and limped over to his computers. He sat down and clicked the mouse and pressed a few keys. Brandi wrapped her slender arms around his neck.

"There," Uncle Harold said an hour later and pulling up a camera feed. The black-and-white camera feed was on a subway. 5 or 6 men were in the shot.

"Okay. Which one are we looking for; a member of the gang or the hobo with the beard and terrible clothes?" Brandi asked, leaning forward to look at the frame.

'The hobo. I would never ask for help from a gang banger. It's bad enough that I have to ask for help from my 13-year-old niece," Uncle Harold said, squeezing her wrists gently.

"Wait a minute. What is Mr. Hobo doing? Is he fighting with the gang bangers?" Brandi asked, leaning closer.

"It appears to be. I'm gonna call Talbot and Jamison. They will go to the precinct in Manhattan since that's probably where they'll take him," Uncle Harold said, picking up his phone.

* * *

Finch looked out at the Brooklyn Bridge early the next morning, with Brandi beside him as the car came to a stop. "Well, here he is," Brandi said softly. Finch smiled briefly at her and gently stroked the back of her neck and hair with his fingers.

"I just hope he is as agreeable as you are about helping," Finch said just as softly as the hobo came up to them.

"Do I owe you money? Because I'm, uh, running a little short at the moment," the hobo said.

"You don't owe me or my niece anything, Mr. Reese. That's the name you prefer, isn't it? I know you've had several," Finch said.

"Don't worry. We're not going to tell anybody about you," Brandi said gently.

"No offense, little girl, but you don't know anything about me," Reese said.

"Me and my niece know exactly everything about you, Mr. Reese. We know about the work you used to do for the government. We know about the doubts you came to have about that work. I know that the government, along with everybody else, thinks you're dead," Finch said as Reese came up and stopped, looking around.

"And we know that you've spent the last couple of months trying to drink yourself to death," Brandi said.

"You look like you couldn't be more than 13 or 14. What do you know about drinking?" Reese asked amused.

"More than I'd like. My mother tried drinking after my dad died on 9/11. What snapped her out of it was me," Brandi said.

"We also know you're contemplating more efficient ways to do it. So you see knowledge is not our problem. Doing something with that knowledge, that's where you'd come in. You can call me Mr. Finch and this is my niece, Brandi. I think all of us can help one another. I don't think you need a psychiatrist or a support group or pills," Finch said.

"What do I need?" Reese asked.

"You need a purpose. More specifically you need a job," Finch said.

"Look, I know you don't know us or even if, but please, let me help you. You lost someone special. I get it. My father was killed at Ground Zero and my mom died a couple of days ago in a mafia hit gone wrong. My uncle didn't even let me go to the funeral because the men who did it might be targeting me. But please, come with us. There's something me and Uncle Harold want you to see. if you still don't want the job after what we show you, you can leave," Brandi said. Reese grinned briefly.

"All right, but only because she's a good kid," Reese said, going to the car.

"Thank you, baby," Finch said, wrapping his arm around Brandi's thin shoulders.

"You're welcome, Uncle Harold. Not that I know what is so important," Brandi said as they followed Reese.

"You will, Sweetheart. I promise," Finch said, pressing a kiss to her head.

"Thanks, Uncle Harold. I love you," Brandi said.

"I love you too, Sweetheart. You tell me when and we can get started on legally making you my daughter instead of my niece," Finch said.

"Okay. But I'm not ready yet. When I decide I'll let you know," Brandi said as he opened the door for her.

That's all I want, baby," Finch said, touching her face and hair gently as they got into the car.


	3. The Job and Refusal

Chapter 3- The Job and Refusal

Brandi blinked as she got out of the car, following Reese and Uncle Harold. She grabbed Uncle Harold's arm. He looked down at her smiling briefly as Reese got out and turned to them. " Eight million people. Do you know what they all have in common? None of them knows what happens next.. Someone is murdered in New York City every 18 hours. At the end of the day, one of these people will be gone," Uncle Harold said, picking up Brandi's hand resting lightly on his arm.

"Bad things happen to people every day. Like this girl's mom and dad. You can't stop that," Reese said, indicating Brandi.

"What if you could? Not the things that happen in the heat of the moment. But so many crimes are planned days, weeks in advance. What if you could stop those? I've got a list. A list of people who are about to be involved in very bad situations. Murders, kidnappings. The people that are on my list, they have no idea that anything's about to happen to them. Most of them are just ordinary people. People like my niece. Like her," Uncle Harold said, stroking Brandi's hand gently and indicating a blonde woman buying a cup of coffee from a vendor.

"Thank you," they heard the blonde say as she took the coffee.

"Her name is Diane Hansen. And this week she's at the top of my list. I don't know exactly what's gonna happen or what her role in it is. She might be the victim. She could be the perpetrator. All I know is that she's involved. I want you to follow her, figure out what's gonna happen, and stop it from happening. So, what do you think?" Uncle Harold asked, squeezing Brandi's hand in his large hand.

Reese looked at Diane Hansen as she left and then at Uncle Harold and Brandi. "I think this girl is a nice kid," Reese said, indicating Brandi.

"Thank you," Brandi said.

"You're welcome and I think you're a bored rich guy. I think that woman's probably your ex-wife or someone you rode in an elevator with once. Either way, I think I'm done," Reese said walking away. Talbot and Jamison stepped in his path, to which Reese knocked them down quickly and walked away.

* * *

"That went well, Uncle Harold," Brandi commented as she gripped Finch's hand tightly. When they went out for the first time since Brandi had lost her mother, Finch had told her to hold onto his hand since they could be separated and Moretti probably still was looking for her.

"Yes it did. I still want to do this. Do you now that you know what it is? I'll understand if you don't," Finch said as they made their way back to his car.

"I want to help, but is it really necessary that we have someone help us? He sounded as if he didn't want to do it," Brandi said as they entered the car and she rested her head on his chest. Finch rubbed up and down her arm with one hand and rubbed her face and hair with the other.

"Yes it is. With my back and neck the way it is, and the fact that you're too young to do more than help me with the computers, I need someone to actually save them," Finch said, kissing her head gently.

"Well, I guess we'd better find someone else to help us with your list," Brandi said.

"No. We need his help. We need to convince him to help us," Finch said, wrapping her hair around his fingers. Brandi looked up at him in surprise.

"Uncle Harold, I told him that if he didn't want to have the job, then we'd leave him alone," Brandi said, raising her head from his chest and looking into his blue eyes.

"I know you did, Sweetheart. My brother would be proud of his beautiful daughter who keeps her promises, but I need his help. We need to find him again and get him to help us," Finch said, cupping her face with his hands gently.

"Okay, but if he kills us, don't say I didn't tell you so," Brandi said, burying her face in his chest


	4. Waiting and Found

Chapter 4- Waiting and Found

Brandi looked at her watch. it was after 9:00 and Uncle Harold had been looking for Reese since had left them early that morning. In that time Brandi had been thinking of Uncle Harold's offer to adopt her. It was a tough decision. Brandi had already had a father, but if she let herself be adopted by her uncle, she'd feel as if she was selling her father out. She also didn't know what to call Uncle Harold if he did. He wouldn't be her uncle any more. He'd be her dad, not her uncle. "Uncle Harold?" Brandi asked.

Uncle Harold looked up at her, a warm look in his blue eyes. "Yes, Sweetheart?" Uncle Harold asked with a smile.

"If I decide I want to be adopted, what do I call you?" Brandi asked. Uncle Harold grinned wider and limped over to her. He sat next to her and gripped her hands tightly in his as he looked into her eyes.

"If you decide it's what you want, then you'd be my daughter instead of my niece. In the eyes of the law, I'd be your father instead of your uncle," Uncle Harold said, rubbing her fingers gently.

"Oh. I don't know if I'm ready for that, Uncle Harold," Brandi said. Uncle Harold released her hands and gently touched her face.

"I know that, Sweetheart. You just tell me when you are. I know I forced you to come live with me, but I don't want to force you to be my daughter. I want you to make that choice on your own," Uncle Harold said, kissing her forehead gently.

"Thanks, Uncle Harold. Have you found Mr. Reese yet?" Brandi asked, changing the subject.

"Not yet, but I will. Are you hungry? If you'll watch my monitors, I'll go get something," Uncle Harold said, standing up.

"A little, but I don't know how to operate a camera feed," brandi said as Uncle Harold put on his suitcoat. "There's nothing to it, Brandi. Just look at the screen every so often. I should be back in 30 minutes," Uncle Harold said, hugging her tightly and kissing her before leaving.

"Okay," Brandi said, sitting down in his chair, an "Animorphs" book in her hand.

* * *

Finch came back, his arms full of takeout Chinese food. Since he still had no idea what Brandi liked to eat, he got a little of everything. Brandi was at the computers, looking at camera feeds. "Soup's on. Well, actually Chinese food," Finch said, putting the bag on the table. Brandi stood.

"Sounds good. Any duck in there?" Brandi asked as Finch took out cartons of rice and plastic containers.

"I got some of everything since I don't know what you like to eat," Finch said as she opened the carton of Peking duck and Sesame chicken and they sat down.

"So I guess you don't cook, right?" Brandi asked as Finch took her hand in his.

"No, but I know some of the best places to eat. Do you cook?" Finch asked.

"Yeah. I took home ec last year since Mom's cooking could kill a parasite," Brandi said as she picked up a fork and started to eat fried rice.

"Well, when we have time, I'll let you cook one night," Finch said with a smile.

"Thanks. By the way, I didn't see Mr. Reese," Brandi said.

"We'll find him. Eat, Brandilyn," Finch ordered firmly.

"Yes, Sir," Brandi muttered as she ate an eggroll.

The computer instantly made a vibrating sound. "We found him," Finch said, getting up and going to his computer.

"Where?" Brandi asked, joing him, her mouth full.

"Don't talk with your mouth full. And he's in Hell's Kitchen," Finch said. Finch nearly started as the color drained out of Brandi's face.

"Hell's Kitchen? That's where my mother was gunned down last year," Brandi said in a scared voice.

"I know. I read about that when I drugged you, but I'm gonna have him moved when he's asleep to a hotel I use," Finch explained, limping over to Brandi.

"So we don't actually have to go into Hell's Kitchen, Uncle Harold?" Brandi asked, biting her lips nervously.

"No. I'll have Talbot and Jamison move him. When he's moved, they'll call me and we'll go to the hotel," Finch said, hugging his niece tightly.

"Good. I'll only go into Hell's Kitchen only over my dead body," Brandi said flatly.

"Pretty final then. And please do not use that term. I don't like it and your father wouldn't have liked it either. And I speak for your father now if you decide if you want me to be more than just your uncle," Finch said, stroking her hair gently.

"I don't know, Uncle Harold. I love you, but I don't know if I can see you as my father. I had a father and I lost him," Brandi said, crying into his chest.

"I always saw you as part mine, Brandi. You have always been my girl. You once called me "Daddy Number 2" until your father told you that I was your uncle," Finch said, kissing her forehead.

"I still don't know if I can call you my father. I love you, but it's too soon," Brandi said, wrapping her arms around Finch's neck.

"I know, Baby. I know. That's why I'm not forcing you to be my daughter. I want you to want to be my daughter. Not my daughter because I forced you to be. It's different than me forcing you to come with me for your protection," Finch said.

"Thank you, Uncle Harold. You aren't mad then?" Brandi asked, looking up into his eyes.

"I could never be mad at you. You are my girl. I have always loved you," Finch said, pressing a kiss to her ear.

Brandi raised her head from his chest. "We probably should call Talbot and Jamison, Uncle Harold, if we want to move Mr. Reese," Brandi said.

Finch smiled at her briefly as he stroked her face with his fingers. "You're right, Sweetheart," Finch said with a kiss to her forehead as he stood up and pulling out his cell phone, dialed Talbot's and Jamison's phone numbers. They would talk about the adoption later. It hurt that Brandi didn't want him for a father yet, but he understood. At least she was hugging him, kissing him, and telling him that she loved him. He couldn't ask for more than that.


End file.
